Eyes of a Werewolf
by Holly Chase
Summary: The one fool-proof way of recognising a werewolf: the eerie amber eyes. Remus had a plan, grab his bear, run back across the garden and into the sitting room where his parents would be listening to the radio. When they saw that he was fine, they would see that there was nothing to be scared of and they would let him climb the tallest tree and run around in the forest again.


Remus's blue eyes flew open; he hugged his arms to his chest, drawing up the covers around him. Something was wrong. His narrowed eyes examined the room, with a gaze of despair. _Where __was it? _Remus thought back to where he had last seen it. Yes, they had been playing in the garden. By the oak. The four year old knitted his brow and chewed his bottom lip; his mother had specifically forbid him from leaving the house without parental supervision, especially not at night, something to do with a person named _Greyback_. Remus made up his mind; he had to get his teddy back. Clenching his hands around his bed-rail, he swung one leg over the top, in one perfected movement the child was on the floor, staring up with a satisfied expression at his bed. He crossed to his window, carefully avoiding the creaky boards. Voices seeped under his door from downstairs, low and hoarse as his parents voices had sounded recently; like they were worried about something, something that they were trying to stop _him_ from finding out. Remus's philosophical mood was interrupted by a familiar shape lying forlornly by the great tree.

_Teddy!_

Remus's breath fanned over the window as his breathing quickened. He brushed aside his curtains and let the full moon's light enter his room. The silver light was mesmerising, sending ghostly shadows across the room. Remus clambered up onto the window ledge and flung open the pane. A howling wind echoed around the room, Remus shivered, he had never heard the wind howling before and he didn't particularly like it. But Teddy was still sitting by the tree, head hanging limply to one side. Remus hardened his resolve, he _couldn't_ be a wimp, and there was an innocent bear at risk. Remus placed one pudgy hand on the piping that ran down the wall of the house. The tubing groaned and wavered in the squall, but Remus was already setting his foot on a ledge of piping. With a childish laugh that resonated through the garden, the boy leaped, rocking his legs backwards and dropping his hands, to then swing them back up and scuffling for another foot-hole.

It was a method of getting into the garden that the young boy had proudly shown his terrified parents when he had decided that it took much too long to run down the stairs. This method however, did not work in getting back up to the bedroom; as he had found out shortly after.

But Remus, as all smart children always do, had a plan. He would find his bear and run into the sitting room where his parents would be sitting listening to the radio. When they saw that there was nothing to be scared of, they would see how silly they were being in not letting him climb the tallest trees and go out into the was simple and effective, as all plans should be, the boy reasoned.

When Remus landed on the grassy terrain, he could not help but smile a satisfied smirk, up at his window before trundling towards the end of his garden and the beginning of the wood. _Now I'll show mum and dad there's nothing to be scared of_, Remus reached towards his bedraggled toy. Just as his hands brushed the soft fur and rumbling noise emanating from the forest made Remus stop. A freezing feeling, like icy water rushing down his spine forced him to halt where he stood. His neck prickled with fear as he felt something staring straight through him.

A growl, snapping through the quiet night air like a hot poker through snow; Remus forced his gaze upwards. Two orange eyes glowed from the shadowed darkness. Salivating jaws and razor teeth caught a non-existent light, sending a white ray across the wooded floor. Remus stood, staring in fascinated horror.

Then he screamed. His shriek pierced through the night.

The humongous shape leapt forwards, scattering leaves and twigs. In a blind panic, Remus began to run. He was a speedy boy, used to playing tough games of catch. He might have made it. Might have… had not a twisting root from the large tree he and his bear had been playing under only a couple of hours before hand tripped him up. As Remus felt air under his feet and his hands meet the hard ground, skinning his knees, he knew that it was over. His intelligent four-year-old brain was already telling him that his time was up. It was like catch.

You run.

You try to escape.

You get caught in the end.

Apart from now, Remus winced as the hot, rank breath of the figure fanned over his face; the consequences would be far more severe. Teeth as sharp as blades tore through his skin, and at once he felt a terrible pull. Blood-lust and pain.

It was infinitesimal amounts knives ripping him to shreds.

It was being thrown into a pool of undiluted acid.

It was being burnt on the very surface of the sun.

It was all of that times a million and even then not even close.

And it was then, that Remus Lupin wished to die, for it all to be over and the terrible pain to stop. But it didn't, it burnt hotter and hotter and he screamed and screamed until he heard a petrified shriek from the house he had come from. The unforgiving teeth vanished and the monster was gone. A door slammed open.

"REMUS!" His father's voice sounded almost as scared as his mother's scream. The last thing Remus remembered was his mother's tear streaked face and his father's voice.

"_No, no, no…"_

When Remus woke, he was lying in an uncomfortable bed with plain white sheets tucked in too tightly. His mother was bent forward, eyes closed. Even in sleep she looked worried, with her forehead furrowed. Remus lifted his gaze and saw staring back at him a slight, sickly boy, with too-pale skin and long brown hair. Blowing his irritating fringe away from his eyes, how long had been out? Remus gasped as he saw his eyes were a strange, eerie amber colour, that they'd definately not been that last time he'd struggled up in bed, pushing away the crisp covers. His mother shifted, but didn't wake and Remus looked guiltily down at her. Turming his head to see the rest of the room better, Remus noticed an old man sitting up in bed reading a paper. (The man probably wasn't that old, but when you're four everyone older that ten looks like they're a hundred.) The man looked up as he felt Remus' gaze, nodded at him slowly then turned back to his paper. Remus didn't advert his gaze.

"Yes?" sighed the man and Remus jumped at the harsh voice. Bright hazel eyes leered at him from the other bed. He looked Remus up and down, something flickered in his eyes; an emotion Remus had never been subjected to before. Pity.

"What happened to you?" Remus asked, his mother babgered him constantly about being polite, but as with all children younger than seven it went in one and out the other. Indeed Remus' father often joked it didn't even get to Remus' ear before he'd run off again. But this time Remus' impolite questioning seemed valid; bandages were wrapped around him until almost his whole body was covered and between the gauze, red streaks of blood trickled like scarlet rivers. The man smiled at him weakly.

"The same thing that happened to you, I'd guess." He replied, this did not help Remus as he had no idea what had happened to him in the first place apart from the facts; it hurt a lot and he didn't want it to happen again. He'd never disobay his parents again. The man continued speaking; "Well, actually I don't guess; I know. Those amber eyes are rarely seen."

"What happened to me?" Remus whispered. The man looked surprised.

"You got bitten, didn't you? By a werewolf," the man turned back to his paper. The words echoed through Remus' head. _'You got bitten...' '... by a werewolf.' _A nurse tip-toed into the ward.

"Mr Redge," the man looked up. "You're free to go, for now. Here are the papers determining your condition; please read them carefully and sign when needed. Reception will make you another appointment for next week." she tone was buisness-like and brisk, but her face was kind as she passed the pad and pen to the man in the bed. Mr Redge slowly prised himslef off the bed, and the nurse held his arm to steady him. Remus watched them leave before turning his gaze back to the mirror. His amber eyes flashed in the sunlight; _'Those amber eyes are rarely seen.' _

The amber eyes of a werewolf.


End file.
